The arrival of Bec’s much longed for daughter, Nevaeh, was tinged with sadness. Her birth coincided with the heartbreaking loss of Bec’s father, David, who passed away on the very same day. Bec had little time to process the whirlwind of emotions, as just weeks later, Nevaeh was diagnosed with neuroblastoma. Bec shares their story,
Nevaeh was born on Easter Sunday, 2022, at 12:37 pm. Just six weeks earlier, my dad, David, had been diagnosed with cancer.
Despite being given a prognosis of 12 to 14 months, he tragically passed away on the same day Nevaeh came into the world.
Her birth was challenging. I had an emergency c-section, and I was dealing with the shock of losing my dad. Once we were discharged and back home, Nevaeh became very lethargic. At five days old she wouldn’t even dream feed, which deeply concerned us. We returned to the hospital where I’d given birth, and after an examination, Nevaeh was diagnosed with a urinary tract infection (UTI).
After 48 hours of antibiotics, she was well enough to be discharged, and we flew from Brisbane to Canberra to attend my dad’s funeral.
Back in Brisbane, we took Nevaeh for what we thought was a routine ultrasound to check her kidney function.
That’s when we were given devastating news: doctors had found a large mass on her right adrenal gland. She was just shy of three weeks old.
We had our first oncology appointment the day before Nevaeh turned one month. She was placed on a “watch-and-wait” program, which was terrifying. My husband Dave and I felt utterly helpless, like nothing was really being done to help her.
At birth, the tumor measured 2.5cm by 3cm—so large on our tiny baby. From May to November 2022, it began to shrink naturally, reducing to 1.5 cm by 1cm. But in December, we learned that it had started growing again.
Surgery was scheduled for the day after Nevaeh’s first birthday. On April 18, 2023, she went in for the operation.
We were told it would take about three hours—but it lasted closer to five. It was an agonizing wait. Dave and I were terrified for our little miracle IVF baby.
When she came out of surgery, we were relieved to hear that the mass, along with her right adrenal gland, had been successfully removed. From there, she would need regular check-ups every three months. These check-ups weren’t easy. A urine sample meant taping a collection bag over her private parts—a process that eventually caused her to scream just at the sight of it, associating it with pain from urine tests and ultrasounds.
The first 12 months after my dad’s death and Nevaeh’s diagnosis were incredibly hard. I don’t think I allowed myself to truly enjoy being a mum. Even though I wouldn’t trade Nevaeh for the world, I struggled mentally. I didn’t work during that time and, honestly, there were moments I held back from getting too close to her—afraid I might lose her the same way I lost my dad.
As of April 18, 2025, her check-ups have been extended to every four months. Our little miracle has now been cancer-free for just over two years—but the worry never fully disappears. In the lead-up to scans, we barely slept. We get scanxiety. Any little stomach pain she has makes us fear the worst—that the cancer might be back.
Nevaeh’s journey has shown us how strong and fragile life can be at the same time. Her story underlines why funding research into neuroblastoma is so important. It’s this research that helps find better treatments, gives families like ours hope, and gives kids like Nevaeh the chance to grow up healthy and happy.
